more than charming. He was charismatic. His looks and flirtatiousness were
a weapon he had honed to the precision of a deadly blade. Once he pulled it out, manipulation
was not far behind. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was attracted to him.
When he entered a room, the air snapped and sparkled. Now that he was around more,
wearing his body hugging concert t-shirts and snug jeans, her hormones were in a perpetual
state of high alert.
And his reputation as the biggest playboy partier on the planet? Highly exaggerated.
There had been no orgies at the house — in fact, no women at all. Of course, he was
probably conducting his affairs elsewhere in deference to Ella. But still, he didn’t
come home reeking of liquor and women, and he rarely drank alcohol at home. Why was
she spending time thinking about his sex life? It wasn’t as though they’d ever have
a relationship outside of the professional one.
Maddy glanced up in surprise from the kitchen table where she was trying to write
a paper when she heard clomping on the main staircase. It was early for Asher to be
up. Though he had agreed to meet daily to discuss Ella at the psychologist’s urging,
they had only met twice. The psychologist was clamoring for another meeting, too,
but she’d have to get in line.
Asher’s step faltered as he spotted her and she leveled him with a stare.
“Maddy.” He greeted her heartily, ramping up the smile.
She hastily turned back to her computer screen. Too late, the image was already burned
into her retinas. No shirt! He wasn’t wearing a shirt. And what were those tattoos?
Had the top button of his jeans been undone?
No. Do not check him out again.
His shoulders were broad and thickly muscled — from what? He was a guitarist for
heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like he did heavy lifting. There had been a smattering of
hair across his chest that tapered as it made its way into the fly of his jeans, lean
hips and those muscles at the top of his waistband … what were they called? Oh,
yeah. Obliques. She stifled a sigh. She wasn’t into tatted-up men, she reminded herself.
Especially rock superstars. She peeked up as he seated himself at the table across
from her, coffee in one hand, banana in the other.
She tried to keep her gaze from sliding down his broad, inked chest. “Asher, we agreed
to meet daily.”
His smile disappeared. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes and no.” Maddy closed her laptop. “This morning Ella had a stomach ache. Last
night, a nightmare.”
He took a sip from his mug. “Maybe she’s sick?”
“The therapist thinks its anxiety.”
There was real fear in those beautiful hazel eyes as they darted away from her study
of him.
Maddy refused to let him off the hook. “What’s the problem? You hired me to help you
care for Maddy, not take
over
care for her. She needs you.”
Patience, Maddy.
It was impossible to be around him and not know the kind of pain he was dealing with
— the loss of his sister, Ella’s meltdowns, nightmares and always, always asking for
her mom. He lived here; he had a level of awareness. She’d thought at first he might
be depressed. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe this was just who he was.
She focused on his eyes. Panic. Doubt. They skittered away from hers.
“I’ve been busy, catching up … ”
She waited.
He put down the mug and rested his head in his hands.
She reached across the table.
He took her hand.
Hers tightened in a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you are
going through. Justin tells me what Dee meant to you, to all of you … It’s just
that, you know, if you
want
Ella, you have to deal with her. Help her. A lot more than you have been.”
His breathing was ragged and he withdrew his hand. “I know. I know. It’s just …
God! I feel so sorry for her. It rips my heart out to hear her cry and when she asks
for Dee, I feel completely
a weapon he had honed to the precision of a deadly blade. Once he pulled it out, manipulation
was not far behind. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was attracted to him.
When he entered a room, the air snapped and sparkled. Now that he was around more,
wearing his body hugging concert t-shirts and snug jeans, her hormones were in a perpetual
state of high alert.
And his reputation as the biggest playboy partier on the planet? Highly exaggerated.
There had been no orgies at the house — in fact, no women at all. Of course, he was
probably conducting his affairs elsewhere in deference to Ella. But still, he didn’t
come home reeking of liquor and women, and he rarely drank alcohol at home. Why was
she spending time thinking about his sex life? It wasn’t as though they’d ever have
a relationship outside of the professional one.
Maddy glanced up in surprise from the kitchen table where she was trying to write
a paper when she heard clomping on the main staircase. It was early for Asher to be
up. Though he had agreed to meet daily to discuss Ella at the psychologist’s urging,
they had only met twice. The psychologist was clamoring for another meeting, too,
but she’d have to get in line.
Asher’s step faltered as he spotted her and she leveled him with a stare.
“Maddy.” He greeted her heartily, ramping up the smile.
She hastily turned back to her computer screen. Too late, the image was already burned
into her retinas. No shirt! He wasn’t wearing a shirt. And what were those tattoos?
Had the top button of his jeans been undone?
No. Do not check him out again.
His shoulders were broad and thickly muscled — from what? He was a guitarist for
heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like he did heavy lifting. There had been a smattering of
hair across his chest that tapered as it made its way into the fly of his jeans, lean
hips and those muscles at the top of his waistband … what were they called? Oh,
yeah. Obliques. She stifled a sigh. She wasn’t into tatted-up men, she reminded herself.
Especially rock superstars. She peeked up as he seated himself at the table across
from her, coffee in one hand, banana in the other.
She tried to keep her gaze from sliding down his broad, inked chest. “Asher, we agreed
to meet daily.”
His smile disappeared. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes and no.” Maddy closed her laptop. “This morning Ella had a stomach ache. Last
night, a nightmare.”
He took a sip from his mug. “Maybe she’s sick?”
“The therapist thinks its anxiety.”
There was real fear in those beautiful hazel eyes as they darted away from her study
of him.
Maddy refused to let him off the hook. “What’s the problem? You hired me to help you
care for Maddy, not take
over
care for her. She needs you.”
Patience, Maddy.
It was impossible to be around him and not know the kind of pain he was dealing with
— the loss of his sister, Ella’s meltdowns, nightmares and always, always asking for
her mom. He lived here; he had a level of awareness. She’d thought at first he might
be depressed. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe this was just who he was.
She focused on his eyes. Panic. Doubt. They skittered away from hers.
“I’ve been busy, catching up … ”
She waited.
He put down the mug and rested his head in his hands.
She reached across the table.
He took her hand.
Hers tightened in a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you are
going through. Justin tells me what Dee meant to you, to all of you … It’s just
that, you know, if you
want
Ella, you have to deal with her. Help her. A lot more than you have been.”
His breathing was ragged and he withdrew his hand. “I know. I know. It’s just …
God! I feel so sorry for her. It rips my heart out to hear her cry and when she asks
for Dee, I feel completely
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